Adamantine +1 Agile Flying Talon 11,170 2lb
+1 Orc Bane Kukri
+1 Silver Keen Short Sword (has two channels carved in the blade that allow a double-dose of poison to be administered. A small trigger ejects the poison, so the doses may be applied, then triggered at a later time, and they may be used both at once (forcing the victim to make two saves right in a row) or used independently of each other.)
+1 Corrosive burst Short Sword.
+1 Shortbow 335 4lb, arrows (20 in quiver, 55+ stored-)
Cold Iron Throwing Axe 16 2lb
Silver Dagger 2 1lb (in Spring loaded Wrist Sheath, Blue Whinnis)

**Five pairs of manacles, all with magic inscriptions on them and runes in Abyssal:
The runes say "Shadowguards", and the manacles are Manacles of Capture - when used, they function as normal iron manacles, but they also have a magic effect that no one -- not Van-Haera, not Van-Galazzan, not any of the professors -- can figure out how to activate. It seems like the manacles also perform a Dimensional Anchor, Web, and other spells to hold a person against many possible forms of escape, but there is no clue as to how to use them. There are also, it is worth noting, no keys for them.**

Shadow's touch deals 1d6 points of Dexterity damage to a living creature. This is a negative energy effect. A creature is paralyzed if this Dexterity damage equals or exceeds its actual Dexterity score.

LOOT LIST (& Clues):

Total Cash in Kitty: 11,873gp

--------------------
(Found in Stormfare Library on enemy Wizard)
A cheap ring, inscription reads: "She Awaits You In The Cold Steppes"

**1 bag of small metal chunks; each chunk is random in shape and very flat and dull in color, though the metal itself gives the illusion of movement.
**2 rings; same type of metal as the chunks described above, but have two thin red stripes running through it and around its curcumference. The stripes appear to be a precious stone or metal of some sort, though none of you are able to determine what exactly it is. The two red bands pulsed very slowly while they were on the tengu, giving off a faint light, but ceased as soon as you took it off him. There is no writing, and there are no symbols anywhere on the thing. The color scheme of the ring is similar to the color scheme of the belt of the large ivory-clad man who came to the shore and watched your boat leave.

Scroll of Greater Teleport (x2, One to Boy, one to Kelne)
Wand of Teleport (x2, one to Karthan, one to Aylaeth)
Scroll of Teleport (x2, one to Kelne, one to Jorzan)
-------------------------------
(From Ormir's Treasure Room)

Kelne finds a +1 Adamantine Cunning Construct-baned Warhammer.
Jorzan, who took extra time to search, finds a pair of adamantine battleaxes; one is called Lightning Stormaxe and the other is called Thunder Stormaxe. They appear to have been made and intended for use as a pair. The writing on them is all in dwarvish.
Thunder Stormaxe: +1 Adamantine Thundering Menacing Battleaxe
Lightning Stormaxe: +1 Adamantine Shocking Menacing Battleaxe
Min finds a +2 Adamantine Frost Longsword

Jorzan finds a +1 Silver Keen Short Sword That has two channels carved in the blade that allow a double-dose of poison to be administered by those with such a skill. A small trigger ejects the poison, so the doses may be applied, then triggered at a later time, and they may be used both at once (forcing the victim to make two saves right in a row) or used independently of each other. The rogue also finds a +1 Corrosive burst Short Sword, though it is made just of steel.
Sir Justahl finds a +1 Flaming Burst Battleaxe.
Kelne finds a +1 Mithral Flaming Dragon-baned Greatsword.
Min finds a +1 Silver Disruption Warhammer.
Aylaeth finds a +1 Flaming Dragon-baned Longsword.

-a scroll case with some kind of involved essay or story on it: The essay/story appears to be written in a double-ciphered version of Abyssal, and is a description of the items required in a ritual to bring back Bal-Zat. It is unclear who the author is.
-a disgusting bracelet that appears to be made out of preserved human fingers with runes burned into the flesh: relic from the limb farms of the Grindylow. No one here speaks the language fluently enough to translate it, but its presence in the city is horrifying and alarming in equal parts. LEFT for safekeeping in Stormfare Library
---------------------------------
(Van-Haera's Farewell Gift)

1 potion of Cure Moderate Wounds for each of you.
1 potion of Cure Serious Wounds for each of you.
1 potion of Restoration for each of you.
1 potion of Invisibility for each of you.
1 potion of Greater Invisibility for each of you.
1 potion of Silence for each of you.
A Gorumite Prayer scroll, with certain passages underlined.
A small spikey compass that hurts to hold, and does not point to true north.
-----------------------------------------------------------
(From the Mercenary/Red Dragon Sledges)

one of the sledges has a number of things in small boxes, all of which are addressed to one "Xun Rui Bao, proprietor, Bao's Cartage and Storage", while the items in the other two sledges have no address info. It is also not immediately clear for whom the three prisoners are intended, as none of them are labeled in any way.

The items that seem as if they might be destined for Enhathlad are a strange collection of unpleasantries and riches:
two locked chests clearly marked with the crest of Stormfare, each chest about 2'W x 1'H x 1'L
A nonmagical helm with the sigil of the Inheritor and the crest of Izmir
A ceremonial Warbanian dagger
A small chest filled with small clippings of human hair, each one tied up and labeled
A small bag with seven emeralds in it
A crow's feather
A phylactery with a disgustingly viscous purple liquid in it
A piece of a strange, obsidian-like stone that seems to swallow light
Some dried reeds
A shattered chunk of amber
Three dried spiders
A piece of red cloth
A locked chest, similar in size to the ones from Stormfare, that has no identifying marks on it whatsoever.

Meanwhile, the items destined for the Empire are a bit more straightforward:
A large chest containing 1,000 platinum pieces, all bearing the stamp of the city-state of Mamban.
A strange staff that seems to be woven out of pure shadow.
A small box, no bigger than a child's jack-in-the-box, containing a strange charcoal-grey powder.
A box of tea leaves
A dozen polar bear pelts
A mason jar with strange teeth in it, none of which are human

The first of the chests marked with the crest of Stormfare was guarded with a trap that the shadowdancer easily disabled, and it contains three vials of what appears to be brackish, faintly glowing swamp water. The vials are packed very carefully, and labelled with longitude/latitude. One of them has the word "Deathleech" scribbled in the margin.

The second chest from Stormfare was guarded by a more difficult trap, but Jorzan overcame it as well. It has a magical amulet of some sort in it, there are arcane characters and a carving of a closed eye on it. It is made of jade, and banded with silver.

And CLUES

(In Stormfare)
Pyotr looks startled at first, but then a conspiratorial look comes over his face and he twirls his long moustache with a flourish. "Ah! I understand zis. Yes, I have aunt who did zis type of thing, would very much annoy my uncle." He pauses to count a customer's change. "Anyway, ze Wall? Is no place for nice young man like you, Jorrrzan. You stay away. Is all crazy giant women there with big muscles and swords. They fight all the time, their leader, she is crazy redheaded woman, she is cursed. Dragons, the woods creatures, the giants, always they fight. Always! In the MidLand, in Rrrrassnynyankh, we had local boy, he worships Gorrrum, he goes to Wall because he is strong and tough, he will become big cleric of Gorum! He says. One year and one day he is gone, into the far north, into Allemagh, he comes back, his right arm is chopped off. He tells no one what happened, and now he just drinks all day at the inn." Pyotr, looking out the window, shrugs. "Is not good place, my friend. Is just a giant piece of metal the Lord In Iron cleaved a mountain with, they say. 1001 feet tall, they say, and clerics must climb it to prove their worth before they can live inside it. Much war, much craziness, so much danger is there. Good people don't go there."

Pyotr hisses and reaches for the necklace of Sarenrae he wears around his neck. "You ask me. The Dawnflower should have Sundered Enhathlad, not my land. Those bastards. Those filthy nomads. All they care about is war, zo they can make a profit. They are unclean and ancient, tied to the filthy roots of the tanglereeds in the cold swamps." He pauses and sniffs. He is clearly upset. "Ze Cold Steppes, zis is what we call Enhathlad. Always war is their fault, always they breed the bad ones, the worst elves. Zey say this Black Dragonflight we have now, it is Enhathlad's fault. I believe it! The Wall, The Cold Steppes, eh, Jorrrrzan, why you want to know about zese places. Surely you don't go there? Better to stay here, where is quiet, and nice, and is good coffee and powerful klah. Maybe you take some classes, read about these places. Is better."

(From Sinkhole, Camor's Battle, Near Drow City)
The essay/story appears to be written in a double-ciphered version of Abyssal. It will take a lot of time in a high-quality library to translate, even by an expert cryptolinguist.

Whatever this underground city is, it's clear that it either stretches out under the ocean, or occupies a pocket dimension or demi-plane of some sort.

The runes on the manacles all say the same thing: "Shadowguards."

There was no fighting down here. The fighting all occurred up in the room you started in, and ended when the floor caved in or exploded or whatever. Some kind of ritual was interrupted, possibly from multiple angles or by different people, with the final result being the giant hole you just came down getting created and everyone falling into it. It is not at all clear who was fighting whom. Based on livery and emblems, everybody who ended up down here was on the same side.

Appearence::

Jorzan is a smallish lad of slender build, yet he moves with an almost unearthly grace. Often it is difficult to get a clear view of him as he is most often cloaked and hooded and usually lingers in the shadows, sometimes seemingly disappearing from view even when looking at him. Yet those who do manage to see him notice a youth of average looks, but more compelling is the piercing intelligence which shines from his eyes. His clothing is always all black and tight fitting and he seems to make no concessions whatsoever to the weather, except for a sturdy hooded rain-cloak.

Personality::

Jorzan is a quiet young man, who tends to keep to himself. He does not make friends easily, yet young children draw his attention like a moth to a flame. This is a fiercely independent young man, and therefore he adheres to no laws, leaders or morals save his own. As a result he has formed no specific attachment to any specific organization, although he is familiar with and known to the thieves guilds of several cities. His insatiable curiosity has caused him to range widely in his young years and he is now just as comfortable in the open wild as he is in an urban jungle.

Jorzan can seem cold to those who do not know him, but in his heart he wishes the world to be a better place and tempers his actions accordingly. He hates slavery with a passoin and is fiercely protective of the young, as a result Jorzan will go to virtually any length to protect those innocent ones he deems unable to protect them selves. The fact that Jorzan never knew the nurturing love of a parent has left him with virtually no sense of self preservation, causing him to often take daring, even insane risks.

Religion:

Though hardly religious, at all, Jorzan considers himself Lucky. That along with his wandering spirit, has led him to look to Desna, more than any other God, as his patroness. Mostly though he depends on his own talents and skills in times of need.

History:

Jorzan never knew his parents, or even really what a parent was. Born somewhere in the Unclaimed Lands, in the laboratories of a mad, twisted mage, for the first few years of his life Jorzan was treated as nothing more than an experiment, an object, constantly poked, prodded and examined. What the mad mage's ultimate motivations were shall never be known, but he had been using slaves as breeding stock and experimenting on them with dark magics, newborns that showed promise were spared while those that did not were treated...to a less kind fate. Jorzan was among those who showed the greatest promise, yet his living conditions were little better than all the rest.

Jorzan was five when the group of Paladins from Izmir who finally tracked down the evil wizard raided his laboratories and slew the arcane experimenter in an epic battle. All the slaves were freed and the children sent to orphanages in Izmir yet this attempt at a normal life never took with the strange, brilliant, little boy with the haunted eyes, who always seemed to prefer the shadows to the light. Finally one day, Jorzan went missing and was never to be found in the orphanage gain.

Preferring the freedom of the streets and being on his on, Jorzan struck out to find his own future. Though always grateful to the Paladins for his rescue, he found their ways too stuffy and strict and soon made his way to the much more rowdy Varna. There his talents and skills served him well and he easily survived in the hidden alleyways and dangerous streets he called his home and his connection with the darkness only continued to increase.

Now a young man, Jorzan continues to use his dark talents and gifts to make his way in the world. Though a loner by nature, occasionally Jorzan has joined with others when there was benefit to him to do so, yet up until now these groupings were never lasting ones for him. Freedom and independence are among the cornerstones of Jorzan's life. He is always free with his wealth to help these less fortunate than himself.

Eventually the wandering young soul made his way to Stormfare, with idle thoughts of perhaps attending the university there. As well he was very attracted to the idea of a city almost perpetually covered in cloud and shadow and where hooded people are a common sight. For the past year or so Jorzan has spent his time getting to know well his new city and it's inhabitants, especially the seedier ones. When word of war broke out, Jorzan's first thoughts were to simply avoid it, and with his skills he mused this would not be difficult. Yet when stories begin being passed about of child sacrifices Jorzan flies into an inner fury and he knows without doubt that he cannot stand idly by anymore. Recently, he has been seeking how he can best aid with the war effort and more specifically how he might be able to aid the endangered young ones.

The Ocean and the Northwestern Shores - Though the dwarves of Van-Monnen lay claim to this area that butts up against the White Dragonhold, in truth it is mostly a wasteland of arctic tundra, broken up in the south by only the hardiest of conifers and grasses. Moss clings to the occasional outcropping of bare rock. This is a most inhospitable land, filled with dangers, lacking in resources, and largely unexplored.

The White Dragonhold - just as its name would imply, this area of The Land is inhabited, patrolled, and governed -- such as it is -- by white dragons. Also largely unexplored. Stretches all the way across the top of the world.

Van-Monnen and Van-Duriss (aka The Forgelands) - Home to the greatest kingdom of dwarves in the Explored Land, the Forgelands have the twin distinctions of being simultaneously one of its most resource-rich regions, and one of its most dangerous regions. Dragons from the white dragonhold regularly make incursions south for fresh meat and treasure, raiding merchant caravans, and the White Cliffs that line the shore are said to hold unspeakable secrets.

[Unclaimed Lands] - In the space between, surrounded by The Forgelands on the west, Iridian to the south, the Frost Kingdom to the east and the White Dragonhold to the north, are many old structures from civilizations past; giant walls, crumbled castles, ruined roads, shrines to gods long forgotten and some to gods still worshipped today. This area has insufficient resources for anyone to attempt to claim it and keep it, and is mentioned in conujunction with enough rumours of undead and fey monsters to keep most of the curious away.

Allemagh - A matriarchal barbarian kingdom composed of smaller fiefdoms, said by dwarves to contain tremendous pockets of unmined natural resources, left untouched due to the sheer inhospitableness of both the land and its people.

Warbane - (Protected by Van-Seletharius, Great Wyrm Silver Dragon) - The city of Warbane is home to the greatest fighters known anywhere. Living, as they do, in range of the dangerous Forgelands and the perilous White Cliffs therein, the Warbanians have developed an economy that relies heavily on mercenary trade, in that soldiers from Warbane, in the employ of various kings, cities, merchants, etc. will regularly send money back to their homeland to assist in its upkeep and the training of children in the ways of war. Most warbanians are very large and muscular; near the maximum size for a human, often towering over half-orcs.

Stormfare - (Protected by Van-Galazzan, Great Wyrm Brass Dragon) - As mighty as Warbane is, so Stormfare is intellectual. Built on steep hills and constantly under rain or threat of rain, the denizens of Stormfare are used to being indoors a great deal, and developed the greatest University in The Land essentially just to have something to do. Generally a cozy, avuncular, and pleasant place to be. Not surprisingly, the baristas of Stormfare are said to brew the best Coffee and Klah anywhere in the land, a fact the halflings of H'arun, in the Desert of Lop, dispute.

The Frost Kingdom - Another of the less pleasant places in The Land, this area is peopled by Giants, Golems, and dire beasts of all sorts. Interestingly, certain of the tribes of giants and ogres greatly value textiles and gems from the south, giving those merchants brave enough, or rich enough to hire powerful guards able to make mountains of money by trading silk and southern gems for rare and exotic jewels and furs from the north.

The Great Trackless Woods - Very little is known of this giant, ancient forest. There are a few rugged outposts of miners and frontiersmen scattered here and there, mostly in the south, but the primeval forces that are the true denizens of the woods keep any real civilization at bay.

The Western Coast - Generally a sunny, arid, peaceful place, the coastline is home to excellent farm country, great healing magic, and many quiet towns.

Iridian - A cursed land, often referred to as a "cancer" or "blight" on The Land. The last king of Iridian went insane and was killed in an uprising by his own army. Since then, Iridian has remained leaderless and empty. Iridian began its life as "Shelyn's Jewel," according to some sagas and histories, but little remains in the way of actual, physical evidence to lend any credence to this tale.

Plains of Bennalad - The greatest farmland in The Land, its breadbasket. Peopled entirely by farmers or similar, and protected mostly by monks.

Protectorate of The Lake - Home to Izmir, the city of light and knowledge, beloved of and consecrated to The Inheritor, Iomedae, and home to a mighty force of her Paladins. Izmir has a great library and university, centers of medicine, and is an orderly, clean, lawful place. Just less than a day's journey north is Varna, which is as debauched and rowdy as Izmir is calm and orderly. Varna is home to many people, mostly halflings and dwarves, and is the last known residence of the great brewmaster Erasj (pronounced like "mirage" without the "m"), who is half-mad, but is the last man alive who knows the secrets of brewing Ki Ale, which enhances the powers of monks and other Ki-using physical prodigies.

The Despair of Vestrille - Swampy land north of Rass-La, said to be on top of a great nexus of ley lines, which would certainly explain the immense power radiating from the swamps and trees and the very earth itself. Home to all sorts of undead. It is said just walking in the swamps of the Despair will cause one to enter a terrible melancholy, with some adventurers supposedly becoming so depressed they simply walk into the marshes and vanish.

The Old Woods of Grozcne - Said by some to be an outcropping of the Great Trackless Woods, but by others to be the last of the original forests of the world, and actually older than the Great Trackless Woods, the Old Woods are filled with wild fey, strangely animated plants, and many powerful woodland creatures.

Rass-La - Once the southern half of a grand woodlands kingdom, the desert of Rass-La is now a sun-baked wasteland. It was created some 2,500 years ago in what has come to be called The Sundering; when the goddess Sarenrae, at the behest of an Enhathladi battle-queen named Luaera, took her flaming scimitar and carved a scar into the world for reasons no one knows.

Enhathlad - Enhathlad is a wind-blasted prairie/steppes region, sparsely populated by taciturn, nomadic, and curiously nonmagical elves. These elves are both revered and reviled for making the most brutally effective weapons in The Land, including things like armor-piercing and explosive arrows, and blades of black steel that are bound to a swordmaster's life force and lend the weapon strange powers.

Goreme - Home to farmers and monks, and an area in which some of the finest horses and other domesticated animals are bred.

Desert of Lop - A dangerous and large desert whose name in the local tongue means "You go in, but you do not come out again." The city of H'arun is the pride of Lop, a waystation for merchants taking the trade route from Katapesh north to the Frost Kingdom, or returning from same.

Katapesh - This area is comprised of desert and jungle, and is home to a healthy trade center; the capital city that shares its name. Everything from legitimate goods to slaves to illicit substances pass through the ports and trade routes of this land.

The Old Land - Filled with strange plants and creatures from out of time and dotted with ruins of ancient cultures long-dead, The Old Land is a constant destination for adventurers and explorers. Its most curious feature, from which it takes its nickname, is the large quantity of criss-crossing roads, all in terrible disrepair and most ending abruptly, for no apparent reason, in the middle of a field, or at a lake, or a mountain.

The Empire of Mists - Despite a healthy and active trade relationship with the rest of The Land, little is known about the Empire of Mists.

Tiria - By far the most successful, wealthy, and populated area of The Land, Tiria is home to the walled city of Lesotho, beloved of Abadar and home to his greatest Paladins, which is also a Draconic Protectorate looked over by the great and ancient silver dragon Na-Selene, famed for her tactical mind as well as her thirst for knowledge. Like Stormfare and Izmir, Lesotho also houses a great university.

Tiria is also home to the oldest, largest city and port in the land; Mamban. Divided into five distinct districts, or "delves," Mamban is the funnel through which most trade is poured, and home to countless mysteries and magics, not least of which are the Center City, the Shadowborn, the Lost Fountain, and Old Ness' Bar on the wharf.

Stormfare Info:

From the marshy roads leading to the main city gates in the northeast and southeast, to the wharf district down at the ocean's edge, Stormfare is wet. Moist, sloshy, damp, soggy. Wet. Due to its location on the southern half of a large atoll, the currents and clouds of the ocean tend to get sort of "stuck" over Stormfare, and, lacking any better enterprise with which to busy themselves while in this interminable holding position, they rain.

A typical day in Stormfare begins with a clear, bright sunrise. The extreme angles of light allow the first rays of morning to sneak under the cloud cover, baffling the city's residents with their blinding glow. The confusion doesn't last, however, as the sun soon climbs above the cloudline, leaving the city bathed in its usual wash of grey.

The clouds begin misting early on, and this fine mist gives way to actual rain around morning tea-time. Sometime after lunch a real downpour usually begins, settling quickly into a cold, drenching rain that goes until dinner time. There is sometimes a second brief appearance of the sun as it sets behind the hills in the east.

Because of the constant presence of precipitation, the entire city of Stormfare has been built up in such a way that it resembles a man in a coat and rain cloak, with his hood pulled up over his head and his shoulders hunched up against the spray of cold water issuing forth from the sky. Buildings are mostly stout and round, with good, thick roof tiles and generous gutters and downspouts leading to gutters on the ground that are so wide and well-fortified they may as well be called trenches. Most are made of high-qaulity dwarven stonework. Windows tend to be small and round and thick, and every building has a wide and warm mud room inside the front door with plenty of places to hang dripping coats.

The interiors of most buildings are painted subdued but cheery colors, and have many paintings, artifacts, books, boardgames and pets scattered about the place, anything to help keep people's minds focused, calm, and active.
The citizens of Stormfare are a varied lot; all races are welcome and present in remarkably equal amounts, with halflings having perhaps a slight edge in total numbers, but only a slight one. It is this excellent blending of all peoples' perspectives that many say has led to the extraordinary quality of life in Stormfare, especially in the face of such constantly gloomy weather.

The hot beverages of Stormfare deserve special and particular mention. Stews, soups, tea, coffee and klah are all made and brewed for maximum impact, and are delicious beyond compare; they warm the body and soul alike, and in the case of the caffeinated beverages are quite bracing, elevating and enervating the mind. Klah brewed in Stormfare has been known to have actual medicinal properties, it's so good.

Geographically, the city starts down by the oceanside at the wharf, through ramshackle and weatherbeaten warehouses and inns, itinerant taverns and docks, all seemingly carved from the same giant husk of greyish driftwood. The back alleys are dirt or cobbled, whatever is most convenient for those who use them most. The alleys expand into streets heading up University Hill to the North, leading to the massive and sprawling University of Stormfare itself, its buildings indistinguishable from the civilian structures around it, homes and bookstores and theatres and coffeeshops. SO MANY coffeeshops. Going from the wharf straight east leads one up Swallow Hill to the tree-lined streets of the more residential neighborhoods. South, Traitor's Hill leads to the market district, a riot of colliding shops and storefronts, each doing its gaudy best to get attention from the inevitably ducking and rushing passersby all eager to get in from the rain, or get on to where they're going.

2nd Level
Shooting Star You cause a fiery hot stone to fall from the sky doing 2d6 per level damage to a single target.
Support Beam You instantly conjure a cluster of pillars that temporarily supports a collapsing ceiling.